


We're still in this

by Anonymous



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol, Closeted Character, Denial, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Misogyny, Post Season 3, because they're both drunk, body image issues, if you're under 18 please don't read/interact, pre season 9, traaash sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sometimes he’ll dissociate, when he’s having drunk sex with other people, but with Mac everything feels too raw still. The hair on Mac’s legs rubbing against his, the way Mac smells (uniquely dirty and cheap and familiar), the feeling of Mac's swollen lips, against his, and Mac's hands on his back. If Dennis weren’t at least a little numb, he would explode.





	We're still in this

This is how it usually starts out: they’re wasted, and Mac’s eyes linger on Dennis’s lips a little longer than usual.

It’s not often that all of the conditions are right. Sometimes Charlie’s a buffer. He comes crashing into the apartment with them and flops down on the couch in between them. Mac and Charlie share Mac’s bed, and Dennis goes to bed alone with his stomach in jealous knots.

Sometimes they’re too inebriated. They fall asleep in a well intentioned tangle of limbs and try not to puke on the bed like they’re 17.

But other nights they’re alone, and they’re just drunk enough to have plausible deniability in the morning.

***

Mac’s curled up against the arm of the couch. He gets loose limbed and sleepy when he’s had a few, and the hard lines of his shoulders soften. He almost looks cozy, like a well worn sweater. “It’s barely even one,” he complains, gulping down a few mouthfuls of his beer. “We used to stay out all night, remember Dennis?”

“We started at seven. And we literally stayed out all night, like, last week?” Dennis reminds him. “Besides, bro, I need beauty sleep to keep up with this,” he adds, gesturing vaguely at himself.

“Sleep and a shit ton of vodka,” Mac observes. “I don’t know how you’re not on the floor right now.”

“Other bars make their drinks weak as shit,” Dennis says, with a shrug. He drinks from the bottle of vodka in his hand like it's water. “Why bother paying for a cocktail if it’s not even going to get me drunk? And these girls, too. They expect you to pay for their drinks. I don’t want to. Go get some other sucker to pay for your drinks and then we can hang, you know?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any money, so mostly what I’m offering is this-” Mac says, flexing his arms. “You know, my sweet karate skills, and my abilities as a bodyguard.”

“Nice. A lot of girls are looking for that. A tough guy. And I’m tough too-”

“Well-” Mac starts to protest.

“Hold on. I’m tough too, but mystery is more of my thing. I keep girls guessing. Like what is this guy going to do next? He’s so handsome and elusive - how do I break his hard exterior? You know, really make them work for it,” Dennis says.

“Hm. It’s interesting, that you think of yourself that way,” Mac says slowly.

“And not every girl responds to it-“

“Like the girl at the bar,” Mac supplies helpfully.

Dennis prickles at the mention of the girl that rejected him at the bar. A short, pretty girl with blonde hair. He doesn’t understand why Mac had to bring her up, but he barrels on with his drunken explanation anyway. “Right, like her. She was _beneath me._ ” he says. “I mean, I’m a 9.5. A _9.8_ on good days. And she was, what?” Dennis laughs. “A 7?”

Mac laughs along with him, getting those little crinkles around his eyes. “Yeah, dude. I didn’t think she was hot at all,” Mac confides. And really, that’s not surprising at all.

“It’s part of the whole game. Making them think you’re attainable gets you attention, which then makes the nines and tens take notice,” Dennis says.

“I guess that makes sense,” Mac says, slowly.

“Of course it does… What _do_ you like?” Dennis asks. Sensing a little wariness from the other end of the couch, he adds, “In a girl, I mean.”

“Oh, you know. Nice thighs,” Mac says.

“Thighs,” Dennis repeats.

“Yeah, good, strong thighs. A round ass,” Mac adds, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’re an ass man,” Dennis says, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t know if I’d go as far as to say I’m an ass man. I’m just saying, I can appreciate a nice ass.” Mac pauses, and looks up at the ceiling, as if he’s trying to remember something, before adding, “Boobs too.”

“Boobs as an afterthought. See, that’s interesting, because I would have definitely gone with tits first,” Dennis says.

Mac yawns, and stretches his lower legs out across Dennis’s lap. Most days Dennis would yell at him for the invasion of personal space, but he decides not to. At least Mac had the foresight to take his boots off first. “I don’t know. I just like girls that are hot,” Mac says, resting his head against the couch.

Dennis places a hand on Mac’s leg, his fingers brushing against the denim just above Mac’s knee. If anything has registered as out of the ordinary, Mac hasn’t acknowledged it.

“Me too,” Dennis says. “I like hot girls.” Mac’s eyes watch his hand, as he rubs it just slightly higher up Mac’s thigh. His greenish-brown eyes flicker up, and find Dennis’s. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to, for Dennis to get the gist, because his eyes are doing all of the talking. He wants Dennis to touch him more. He’s still having trouble deciphering the difference between a stray touch and something intentional. Dennis likes him like this - quiet and shy and unsure of what’s going to happen next.

“When’s the last time you had sex?” Dennis asks. He’s teasing him, but he’s not really trying to. He’s just wondering. Maybe he’s trying to figure out how likely it is that Mac will reject him, too. Dennis doesn’t have the patience to get turned down by someone who almost exclusively wears cut off shirts. Besides, he’s already been rejected once tonight.

“Uh, I don’t know-” Mac starts.

“Too long then,” Dennis supplies, with a shrug.

Mac chugs his beer. “Yeah. I guess?” He slouches down further against the cushions, moving his waist forward so Dennis’s hand slides further up his thigh. If Mac’s eyes were curious earlier, they’re giving Dennis the full come hither look now.

Dennis squeezes at the soft flesh on the inside of his thigh, over his jeans, and Mac looks like the air’s been punched out of him. “Been jerking off a lot lately, I bet,” Dennis says. “It’s never the same, as someone else’s hand. Or someone else’s mouth. You know what I mean?”

Mac inhales slowly, and licks his lips. “Yeah, I think I do.” He sets his beer down on the coffee table. Dennis can still taste the shitty off brand stuff on Mac’s tongue, which kind of pisses him off (they own a bar for god’s sake), when he leans forward and kisses him.

Mac’s fingers immediately find the back of Dennis’s neck. Mac’s a good kisser, hesitant at first, but purposeful enough to keep things interesting. Dennis escalates things quickly, nipping and sucking at Mac’s juicy lower lip hard enough to elicit this pathetic little noise from the back of Mac’s throat. His stubble rubs against Dennis’s clean shaven face. He can feel the heat radiating off Mac’s cheeks - he’s _blushing_ , embarrassed and turned on. Dennis wants to make fun of him, but not as badly as he wants to get on top of him.

When Dennis needs more, he pushes Mac further down against the couch cushions, and he thinks he can feel Mac’s heart, thudding a million miles a minute against his ribcage. The body to body contact feels good. Mac’s long, strong legs tumble apart to make room for Dennis on top of him, his body welcoming, familiar, and solid. A hand sneaks under Dennis’s shirt, warming up his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

“Dennis,” Mac whispers into his neck. “I’m not gay- I swear I’m not-”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” Dennis says, closing his eyes and burying his face against Mac’s chest. When he finally looks up, Mac’s face looks uncertain. He wants to be persuaded. So Dennis leans over him a little, drops his voice, and speaks to him softly. “It’s just us, okay? Just two friends. I’m straight, right? So this can’t be… you know.”

“Just two friends,” Mac repeats. “But-”

“Mac. You’re either banging me or you’re not. If this is happening, I’m not going to listen to you complain and tell me you’re straight the whole time,” Dennis says.

Mac’s eyebrows raise hopefully, at the mention of banging, but then his whole face falls back into this defensive mask. He frowns up at Dennis. “I’m not complaining, dude- I’m just saying that I’m not-”

“Do you want me to fuck you, or not?” Dennis asks, finally. “Your choice. You’re so bossy the rest of the time, dude, so tell me what you want.” Dennis already knows the answer to his question, but he’s not going to do anything until Mac says it. He wants to hear Mac admit it to himself.

“Dennis,” Mac breathes. He sits up, and Dennis rocks up with him. “Don’t make me-”

“I’m not making you do anything, Mac,” Dennis says. It comes out more biting than he means it to.

“I want-” Mac says.

Dennis raises an eyebrow, when he goes quiet again. He’s having such a hard time getting it out. It would be cute, if it weren’t so annoying. “I’m not a mind reader,” Dennis says.

“I’m not gay,” Mac says. Dennis could slap him. He briefly considers it, before Mac continues. “But I want-”

“Me?” Dennis supplies. And Mac nods. He shouldn’t look so upset about it. He’s not meeting Dennis’s eyes. Poor Mac will never admit what he wants, without berating himself for it. And he’s so adamantly focused on himself, he’s not even thinking about Dennis, and what Dennis wants - which is to rip Mac’s clothes off, and fuck him until he forgets his name. “Say it, then. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

With some liquid courage in the form of a few gulps of his beer, Mac manages to meet his eyes. “I want to get off with you, dude,” Mac says. “Obviously.”

“You don’t have to be such a little bitch about it,” Dennis says.

“I’m not being a little bitch.” Mac protests. His whiny voice doesn’t do his point any favors.

Dennis almost rolls his eyes, but he’s already missing the feeling of Mac’s hands against his skin. “Take another drink,” he directs, placing his hand on Mac’s thigh again. “Calm down.”

“Do you have to be such a dick? I’m _calm_ ,” Mac says. Still - he throws back the rest of his beer. He takes orders so well, when he’s thinking with his dick. When he sets the can back down on the coffee table, he looks back at Dennis, like he’s waiting for more direction.

Dennis rolls his eyes. He stands up, and starts making his way towards his bedroom. When it becomes apparent that Mac cannot take a fucking hint, he calls back to him. “Come on, baby. Bedroom.”

He’s reassured by the sound of Mac’s heavy footsteps behind him. As soon as he’s past the door frame, he turns around. Mac’s so close that they bump together, and they’re breathing each other’s air again. Dennis wraps his arms around his shoulders, and pulls him into another deep kiss. He’s reeling as Mac walks him backwards against a wall, overwhelmed by the sensation (when did Mac grab his hips?), and the strong smell of Mac’s unique mixture of sweat, hair product, and drugstore cologne.

“You taste like cheap beer,” Dennis complains, against Mac’s lips.

“And you’re still kissing me,” Mac reminds him, pressing their foreheads together. Mac has this terrifying vulnerability in his eyes, sometimes, when he looks at Dennis. Dennis sees all of his weaknesses, raw and waiting to be exploited: his need to please, his guilt, his affection, and his pride.

Dennis could destroy him, with a couple of sentences. No one else has ever looked at him like that.

Dennis closes his eyes when Mac leans in again, kissing him and pressing him tighter against the wall, until the pressure of Mac’s thigh against his groin makes his legs feel week.

Then Dennis remembers that he’s wearing clothes, so he starts stripping them off and tossing them on the floor. Mac starts to follow suit (and his shirt does make it over his head), but then he seems to forget what he’s doing. His eyes roam up and down Dennis’s body, this perfect, appreciative little audience. Dennis can’t help but think he was probably five pounds skinnier the last time they did this (closer to a 9.9). Mac doesn’t seem to notice the extra fat around his hips.

“You couldn’t get your pants off yourself?” Dennis asks him, once he’s down to his underwear.

“I thought you might want to help,” Mac quips, a warm smile blooming across his face.

“Yeah, I’ll help. Come sit down on the edge of the bed,” Dennis tells him.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mac complains. But, predictably, he does just what Dennis says, dropping himself down on the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed so it bounces under his weight.

He tilts his head up at Dennis expectantly, so goddamn needy for affection that it’s written all over his face. Dennis presses a messy kiss to his lips, before sinking down on his knees, between Mac’s legs. Mac holds his breath as Dennis unzips his pants, and pulls them down to his ankles. He’s hard in his boxers. Dennis gives him a teasing squeeze through the fabric before tugging them off too. “Look at you,” he comments. “Doesn’t take much.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mac jokes, smirking down at Dennis. “You don’t look disinterested down there, buddy. Are you that eager to suck me off?”

Yep.

But just for that, Mac can wait. Dennis pushes Mac’s legs apart, and that seems to shut him up.

Mac’s mostly hard muscle, but his tummy and his upper thighs are an exception to the rule. His thighs are big, and obviously well muscled, but they’re also kind of soft. Dennis sets to work marking them up, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until he’s left little purple and red marks along the fleshy skin.

Mac’s tangles a hand in Dennis’s hair, and tugs his head just a little bit in the right direction, in case he needs some help.

“No,” Dennis says, batting Mac away, and glaring up at him. He might be on his knees, but he’s still in charge. “Hands off. Or I’ll stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Mac whines, spreading his legs further to make more room for Dennis between them. He tries for a more authoritative tone, but it comes out sounding like more of a plea than a command when he adds, “Come on, dude. Stop being a tease.”

“Shut up. Be patient.” Dennis watches Mac’s face as he traces his fingers over the darkest little bruises, and presses his fingers against them.

“Hurts,” Mac says, his head bent over.

“Do you like it?” Dennis asks. “When it hurts?”

“A little,” Mac admits, watching him apprehensively. “Do whatever you want. Just suck me off. I’m dying here.”

“Since you asked nicely,” Dennis says, with a wink, before ducking his head.

Mac closes his eyes and moans, low and sweet in his throat, when Dennis wraps his lips around the head. He tastes bitter and feels impossibly large against Dennis’s tongue. Dennis closes his eyes and bobs his head as he sucks on it, equals parts unskilled and enthusiastic. Mac’s legs relax under his hands, and after a few seconds, more half-muffled moans start to spill out of Mac’s lips. He’s trying to be quiet, and failing.

Dennis isn’t interested in trying to deep throat Mac (sucking on his dick is fine, but choking on it seems excessive), so he uses his hand at the base instead. He keeps his strokes slow and purposeful, enough to send shocks of pleasure down Mac’s spine, but not enough to make him come yet.

One of Mac’s hands finds its way back into his hair. He tightens his grip involuntarily when Dennis licks the slit of his cock, or squeezes at the base, but for the most part his fingers rest reassuring against Dennis’s scalp, occasionally brushing through his curls in a way that makes Dennis’s heart skip a beat. He doesn’t bat them away.

When Mac’s moans start to turn into something more like Dennis’s name, Dennis opens his eyes, and sees Mac’s other hand, tangled up in the sheets, and looking like it’s about to rip them apart. He licks up the shaft of Mac’s dick, eliciting another broken noise from his roommate. Mac’s already a wreck, blinking down at Dennis with pink cheeks, bruised thighs, and mussed up hair. He still tastes like cheap beer when Dennis stands up and kisses him again. “You’re so easy,” he tells him, because he is.

“Fuck you, dude,” Mac says.

“That’s the idea,” Dennis tells him.

He shoves Mac back against the mattress, and straddles his waist. Mac’s hands find his hips again, but they don’t stop there. They slip under the waistband of Dennis’s underwear, and grope at his ass, making him groan into Mac’s mouth as he rocks forward to grind against him.

“God, you’re so hot,” Mac breathes into his ear. He closes his eyes when Dennis starts pressing kisses and teasing bites along the column of his neck. He’s not quite thrusting up, but his hips aren’t staying still under Dennis’s either.

“Take your underwear off,” Mac demands, pushing at the waistband lazily. “I’ll suck you off.”

Mac’s mouth was basically engineered for blowjobs, and he’s eager enough to please that he would almost definitely gag on Dennis’s cock at some point. The thought of it makes Dennis’s knees feel weak - it’s a good offer. But Dennis has a better one. He rubs his hands along Mac’s arms, pinning him down with his weight, as he leans over him, and says. “Let me fuck you.”

Mac’s eyes go dark. He bites his lip. Dennis sits back and watches his face. “You’ve thought about it,” Dennis says, and Mac doesn’t say anything back because it’s not a question. “About me, inside you.”

After a few moments of pure satisfaction (it’s not often that anyone truly shocks Mac to silence), Mac’s brain manages to catch up with his dick. He leans up on his elbows, cocky all of a sudden. “You’ve thought about it too, dude. Haven’t you?”

“No,” Dennis says.

“Yeah, you totally want my ass,” Mac decides.

“You’re terrible at this,” Dennis tells him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Dirty talk is fine until I want to point out the fact that you’ve been pounding off to your fantasy of _pounding me_ ,” Mac says, with this insufferable, gleeful grin.

“Whatever,” Dennis says, rolling his eyes, as he gets up to grab lube from his bedside table. He shimmies his underwear off, before climbing back onto his soft navy sheets. He doesn’t miss the way that Mac’s eying his dick, like he’s sizing up some asshole at the bar. “Don’t look at it like that,” Dennis orders.

“Uh, I can look at it however I want if it’s going to be inside me,” Mac asserts. He’s sprawled out against Dennis’s sheets, looking like he’s meant to be there.

“Are you worried it’s not going to fit?” Dennis asks, laying on his side next to Mac.

Mac props himself up on his elbow so he can face him. “Not really,” he says.

Dennis tries not to be offended.

Mac reaches for the lube over Dennis’s shoulder. He uncaps it, and squirts a generous amount on his fingers. Dennis watches as he rubs them together to warm the liquid up in his hands. He watches Mac’s face transform as the first finger goes inside - his eyes close, and his mouth drops open. His brows draw together, creating a little crease in the middle of his forehead, a small sign of discomfort.

Dennis strokes himself slowly as he watches, so he doesn’t push himself too close to the edge. He leans in close to Mac, and whispers, “How often do you do this?”

“Not that often,” Mac says.

“You’re lying, dude,” Dennis says. Mac’s face screws up as he works another finger inside of himself. He still has his eyes closed. “You did that way too fast. And you’re way too comfortable with the idea of taking a dick up your ass.”

“Stop making it weird,” Mac complains, opening his eyes to squint over at Dennis. “Are you gonna touch me, before you come in your hand?”

“I’m not going to come in my hand. I have the stamina of a racehorse.”

“I hate you,” Mac says. He lets out a loud groan when he hits a spot inside that makes his back arch up. “Ugh, yes… _Dennis._ ”

Does he say Dennis’s name when he’s alone too?

Dennis shoves Mac’s hand out of the way. He climbs on top of him, and licks into his mouth, filthy and rough and devoid of any kind of decorum. They’re bodies, moving together, hard against each other, and breathing more heavily than they should be (Dennis should do more cardio). Dennis’s head still swirls, from the vodka he had earlier, when he hitches Mac’s leg up. Sometimes he’ll dissociate, when he’s having drunk sex with other people, but with Mac everything feels too raw still. The hair on Mac’s legs rubbing against his, the way Mac smells (uniquely dirty and cheap and familiar), the feeling of Mac's swollen lips, against his, and Mac's hands on his back. If Dennis weren’t at least a little numb, he would explode. He’d overthink it; he’d ruin it.

The best thing about this is that he can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning. (The worst thing about this is that Mac will pretend it didn’t happen in the morning.)

He pushes inside of the tight warm heat, and the feeling is so overwhelming that doesn’t think too much about the fact that it’s Mac, until Mac cries out. His blunt nails dig into Dennis’s back. He feels so good, tight and clenching, trying to relax around him.

When Dennis thrusts into him again, his hands pressing into his hips, Mac tenses up like he wasn’t expecting it, and throws his head back against the pillows with a soft little noise. “God, Dennis.”

Mac’s nails dig in harder when Dennis speeds up, thrusting in and out at a merciless pace. Dennis isn’t sure when his curls started to fall in his face, or his skin started to bead up with sweat. He isn’t sure when Mac started looking at him like he hung the moon. He tries to fuck the expression off of his face.

“Dennis,” Mac repeats, affectionate and dizzy with sensation. “Please.”

“Please what?” Dennis asks.

“More,” Mac insists.

“I’ve only got one dick,” Dennis says.

Mac turns his head and laughs into the pillows.

“Seriously?” Dennis asks.

“You said something funny! I’m not supposed to laugh?” Mac asks.

“No. Don’t laugh while my dick is inside you,” Dennis says, with a well-aimed thrust that makes Mac moan, and wipes the smile off his face. He maintains the angle, and keeps hitting the sweet spot - he can tell by the way that Mac’s looking up at him, with something like surprise mixed with pleasure in his glazed over eyes.

Still, Mac manages, again, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Be good, and I won’t have to,” Dennis says.

“I am good,” Mac says, too fast, and with absolute certainty.

Dennis leans down to kiss him, and Mac melts into it, his arms going around Dennis’s neck, and pulling him closer, as Dennis thrusts get more and more erratic. “Yeah,” Dennis tells him, breathing into his neck. He reaches down to stroke Mac, and he feels his entire body respond immediately, lighting up and shifting underneath him. Mac tenses up for a moment, and the pressure feels so good it makes Dennis's hips stutter. He picks up his pace again, but he's clumsy and tired and not really giving a shit if his rhythm isn't perfect. It's Mac's voice, hoarse and somewhere between a moan and a whisper, saying his name, that finally sends Dennis careening over the edge.

Mac follows him, after a couple more strokes.

They continue to ride their orgasms out until they’re both overstimulated. Then Dennis rolls off of Mac and lays down beside him, with his eyes closed.

“…Dennis? Dennis, that felt so good,” Mac says. Dennis can’t see him, but he imagines his face is shiny with affection.

“You’re welcome,” Dennis says, stretching his arms out behind his head.

Mac snorts. “Uh, no, _you’re_ welcome. I just let you pound me, dude. And to thank me, you can go get me a towel.”

“No way, I’m tired,” Dennis says. “Go get your own towel.”

“I’m just going to lay here, in your bed, covered in come then,” Mac says.

“Fine with me,” Dennis says.

“Asshole,” Mac says. It doesn’t have any bite behind it, though. Mac leans closer, wrapping his arms around Dennis’s chest, and tucking his head against his shoulder. It’s too sweet of a gesture, for them. Dennis stays quiet and still for a moment, before running a hand over Mac’s hair. It’s sweaty, but the gel has been worn down, and it’s also soft. Mac exhales slowly, his warm breath ghosting over Dennis’s skin.

It takes Dennis’s brain a minute to register the stickiness on their abdomens. When he does, he groans and pushes Mac towards the wet spot on the sheets. “You’re gross, dude. And you’re getting me all gross too.”

“I told you to get me a towel,” Mac says, frowning at him. Stubborn as ever.

It takes Dennis all the effort in the world to drag himself out of bed. “Shower?” He asks, standing there naked with his arms crossed.

“Together?” Mac asks.

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this anonymously, but I'm still a sucker for validation. Leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed, please!


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